


free candy and inner turmoil

by AUTOPH4GY



Category: South Park
Genre: Depressed Stan Marsh, Fighting, Goth Stan Marsh, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Minor Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Sibling Bonding, blink and you miss it - Freeform, cartman and clyde are step brothers, cartman centric, i will die with this agenda, not really goth but hes acting like a piss baby, stan centric, style super best friends (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AUTOPH4GY/pseuds/AUTOPH4GY
Summary: Stan Marsh hates Halloween. It's "cringe" for lack of better words and he's too old for it... Or at least that's what he keeps telling himself as he watches his friends have fun without him.Cartman, on the other hand, is a Halloween fanatic. There's literally nothing better than free candy in his eyes. However, it's not the least bit enjoyable when he has to put up with pissbaby Stan moping about everything and his new (soon to be) step brother Clyde being forced to tag along.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	free candy and inner turmoil

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me i have not written seriously in a year iim so rusty and the ending is rushed but it is what it is. also i just wanna not worry abt getting this out b4 halloween anymore

Stan had his gaze trained to the ground, hands in his jacket pockets as he stood by. His sister busy smearing ungodly amounts of eyeliner around Kyle’s eyes to “give him a dead look”. He just looked ridiculous, Stan had thought to himself. Halloween was stupid anyway, the thought of dressing up in childish little costumes and saying that cringey ass phrase at every door had lost its appeal.

Or maybe he was just telling himself that. Maybe he wanted to spite his dad a little and not be like him at _all._ He was childish and Stan hated that. He couldn’t act his age and was more of a child than Stan himself. No, that definitely wasn’t it, he was just over Halloween.

Shelly continued to smear powders across Kyle’s eyelids, now using some red colour to supposedly make him look for pale. She had more makeup knowledge than two 13-year-old boys did, so Kyle just went along with whatever she said. Plus the brushes felt soft on his eyes, he kind of liked it.

“STAN! KAHL!” Cartman burst through Shelly’s door, Kenny a couple steps behind him, sliding on his socks and smacking into the door frame.

One of Cartman’s shoes was off, Stan swore he heard it hit the stairs and assumed he’d kicked it off. Other than the disheveledness, he was in some sort of devil get up. Kyle had jokingly suggested it after Cartman spent yesterday panicking over not having a costume—far too focused on his Christmas list. No one expected Cartman to actually go along with it, but he bought a pair of cheap-ass devil horns and pitchfork from the dollar store (they lit up if u squeezed one of the horns), and paired it with his usual red jacket. Quick but efficient. 

“Cartman!? What the fuck?” Kyle jumped back, causing Shelly to accidentally smear black eye shadow across his cheek.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING TO FUCKING BELIEVE THIS,” Cartman sounded pissed, taking in deep breaths between his words. “THE AUDACITY OF MY MOTHER!”

“Calm down a bit, you’re so loud.” Stan chimed in.

“I’M LOUD BECAUSE IT’S IMPORTANT, STAN!” Cartman retorted, “But my mom! She’s fucking making us trick or treat with Clyde! FUCKING CLYDE! It’s gonna ruin our Halloween plan! All because of her boyfriend!”

“Your mom’s still with Clyde’s dad?” Kyle titled his head to the side, Shelly wiping down his cheek with a makeup wipe.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” 

“Your mom’s kind of a whore,” Kenny chimed in, with a snicker from behind Cartman.

“KINNY!” Cartman gently hit Kenny in the shoulder who in turned laughed even harder at Cartman.

“He’s right though,” Stan joined in on the teasing.  
  
“No, he’s NOT!” Cartman defended, “Whatever, Kenny and I are heading back to my house to cover him in toilet paper before Clyde shows up, so finish with your gay ass makeup so we can go get some candy.”

Cartman and Kenny turned around before the other two could say anything, Kenny waving and Cartman struggling to slide his shoes back on. Stan could hear his mother tell him off for being so reckless, not that Cartman would actually take any advice. Once the door slammed shut, the house was quiet again, Kyle starting to get fidgety in the vanity stool. He wanted candy, but was doing his best to make this process as easy as possible, Shelly blending out the black eye liner with some dark red colour.

Outside, Kenny sprinted ahead of Cartman, faster than ever since he joined the middle school’s track team. He yelled back some light insults to Cartman, calling him slow and jabbing they would hardly get any candy if Cartman couldn’t run. Stan could hear their yells back and forth through the window, a smile almost breaking through his angsty demeanour. Bringing his attention back to Kyle, who was now anxiously bouncing his leg.

“You’re done!” Shelly finally said.

Kyle immediately jolted up, Stan swore if he popped up any faster he would’ve projected himself through the ceiling. 

“THANK YOU, SHELLY!” he said a bit too loud, his body barely able to contain his excitement for Halloween. “If we run, we can help cover Kenny in toilet paper!”

Kyle picked up his bucket, a little dollar store pumpkin one, and bolted out the door just as Cartman and Kenny had earlier. 

“Thanks for that, Shelly,” Stan added a bit more calmly, heading for the door. His feet dragged, and he didn’t seem excited at all. Just miserable. 

“Whatever, twerp,” Shelly said, but changed as she picked up some hint of longing in the way Stan acted, “You know, I’m not going out this year, so maybe I can do your makeup too quick... if you want.”

Stan shook his head, “It’s fine.” However, it was obviously _not fine_. There was tension in his shoulders and a heavy amount of sadness one could practically feel coming off of him. His feet dragged a bit as he made his way outside to join up with his friends. Not much energy in him to run like the others had, he found himself meandering his way with his eyes trained to the ground. 

“Stan! You missed it! We got to throw toilet paper _all_ over Kenny,” Eric blabbered, already talking off Stan’s ears right after he walked inside.

Peering past Cartman, Stan took in Kenny’s “costume”. It was less of a costume and more of a mess, like he’d somehow found himself on the _Charmin Ultra Soft_ assembly line. Cartman having more fun throwing toilet paper than caring if it covered Kenny or not. So, as always, it was Kyle fixing his mistakes, carefully wrapping one of Kenny’s legs still and tucking the ends into themselves as to make sure it didn’t fall apart. 

Kenny seemed happy, grinning ear to ear as he imagined the candy he’d get later. He didn’t need to pay for a costume this year, either, taking some stress of his family, too. He was sure he’d get more than a single PopTart tonight, the idea mouth watering to him. 

“Ah, I... I see that-“ Stan remarked, immediately getting interrupted by the sound of Cartman’s doorbell and not seconds later, Butters bursting through the door. 

“Heya, guys!” Butters announced his arrival. 

Stan was shoved off to the side, Butters pushing past him in some knight costume, his wooden sword pointed forward. Stan already felt weary around him, he wasn’t responsible and even a fake sword seemed a big dangerous, especially for 13-year-olds. It seemed more homemade out of things than he already had then something bought, Stan recalling he had asked to borrow his sword from when they played wizards and elves as kids. It surprised him Butters still had the thing; Stan had shoved into the garage attic and let it collecting dust. 

“A knight costume? That’s kinda faggy, we aren’t ten anymore,” Cartman looked Butters up and down, taking in his costume.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Kyle elbowed him in the ribcage.

“Shut up,” Cartman mumbled, glancing away.

“Yea, Eric, besides I’m not gay, just bi-curious!” Butters beamed, innocence radiating off.

Did he even know what that meant? He’d been saying it for years, but everyone knew at the beginning he didn’t have the slightest clue, but he should’ve figured it out by now... right? Stan shook his head, deciding not to question Butters confusing relationship with the word. 

“You don’t even-Fine, whatever,” Cartman cut himself off, “It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that if we leave now, maybe we can escape without Clyde because there’s no way I’m spending _my_ Halloween with that loser.”

Cartman reached for his bucket, making his way through the door as if his mother wouldn’t hear them leaving before Clyde even came. The others shrugged and turned to follow him before jumping at the sound of Eric’s mom calling.

“Eric,” she said, her voice sweet, but it was definitely hiding irritation, “Clyde and his friends are on their way over right now. You can sit for a minute.”

Despite her smile and sweet words, she felt _different_ , something they would rather not mess with. The kids froze, Stan even felt uncomfortable. Her normally pushover personality replaced by some fake one, perhaps having a stable relationship for once changed her. Or perhaps it was Clyde’s dad being a functional adult with real parenting skills that was teaching her to actually scold Cartman for once.

Not even Cartman dared to whine about it this time. He dragged his feet and mumbled under his breath as he sat at the couch. The other boys joined him moments later after his mom disappeared into the kitchen. They sat in total silence for a hot minute. The only sound was the living room clock ticking. Stan watching the second hand speed around the clock, the minute hand moving in a jerk motion when the second hand had looped all the way around. He rested his chin on his hand. 

Halloween hadn’t even started, and Stan wanted to curl up in his bed at home. He should’ve just lied to his friends last week when they asked and made some excuse about being busy or helping his dad. He didn’t really want to listen to Cartman’s nonstop complaining, he barely knew Clyde, he didn’t want to be around so many people. And speaking of Cartman’s nonstop complaining, Stan heard him take a deep breath in.

“I can’t believe we have to wait for Clyde’s stupid ass!” Cartman whined, kicking his feet. “Also he’s bringing his loser ass friends? He just has to go and ruin everything! I swear god’s out to get me, guys.”

No one paid attention to his redundant complaining, sitting and entertaining themselves. Butters humming some pop song to himself and studying Cartman’s living room, while Kyle and Kenny occasionally giggling as they showed each other memes they got off twitter. Stan studied the couch out of boredom, thinking about being anywhere but here, and ew-were those cheesy poofs in between the cushions. He shivered and tried to ignore it, turning his gaze elsewhere. Cartman eventually stopped whining when he realised no one cared, pouting to himself. 

Swinging his feet childishly, Cartman huffed. No one noticed, so he huffed louder. Again, no one cared. 

Didn’t anyone care about Halloween? It was the _best_ time of the year. Who didn’t want mass amounts of free candy? Emphasis on the _free._ It was something no kid in the right mind would turn down. 

Well, except for Stan. Cartman glared at him from his seat, but he was looking elsewhere, dragging his finger across the swirled fabric texture. Cartman sighed and leaned back into the chair, bored with waiting and annoyed by the lack of attention that was being paid to him. Who was Cartman kidding? Stan wasn’t in the right mind. He’d become lacklustre and frankly fucking annoying lately. He thought about sneaking alcohol into a drink and giving it to him so he wouldn’t be so plain like that one time. 

But.... Cartman did not understand how to mix drinks and when he tried to steal vodka from his mother last week it smelt so strong he wouldn’t even dare make someone drink it. He was evil, but not evil enough to make Stan drink what he considered glorified rubbing alcohol. 

So back to sulking, Cartman went. Maybe he could out sulk Stan and that would force him to be happy. He slouched, slowing sliding down the couch cushion, glaring at Stan all the while. Begging his burning gaze to be noticed by Stan, he squinted his eyes. He got what he wanted when Stan shot a glance in his direction, only to furrow his brow in confusion and hold his stare for a minute. Maybe if Cartman thought hard enough, he could send Stan a telepathic message not to be such a loser.

_Stop being a loser. Stop being a loser. Stop being a loser. Stop being a loser. Stop being a loser. Stop being a loser._ Cartman thought, glaring back and imagining the message going into Stan’s head.

Instead of unlocking some sort of telepathic powers, Stan just gave him an even more confused look, raising his shoulders in an almost shrug as if saying _what._ Cartman’s expression that of shock for a minute. If he could read Stan’s body language was that technically telepathy? No, it was not, as Stan just looked away after that, having enough of Cartman’s bullshit. 

He did have this odd feeling to stop being such a piss baby about Halloween and possibly head home real quick to put a costume together, but he shook it off. There was still time before Clyde came-Yea, but what would he even wear? It was all pointless, as his inner turmoil interrupted by knocking at the door.

“Eric, sweetie, can you get that?” his mother called from the kitchen.

“I’m fucking busy, mom!” Cartman huffed, back to his usual self of defying everything his mother said.

_The fuck is he even busy with?_ Stan thought to himself, Cartman had literally just been glaring a hole into the back of his head moments ago. Stan turned his head slightly to get a quick glance back at him. Surely enough, Cartman’s burning stare was trained on him. Who put a stick up his ass? What did he even want?

“Eric,” his mom called again in a singsong voice.

“FINE!” Cartman huffed, getting up.

_My savior..._ Stan silently thanked the gods.

Cartman dragged his feet as he walked to the door, opening it with a sigh and not even bothering to look their guests in the eye. Except for another glare right at Roger, his mom’s boyfriend. He swore he was going to fight that man at every chance he could... verbally… he was _not_ planning another murder like he’d done to Scott Tenorman’s parents. 

“How’s my boy?” Roger smiled, trying to be friendly.

“I’m not your boy,” Cartman snapped back.

Roger seemed hurt, but tried to mask it by ruffing Cartman’s hair, “Ah, I’ll break through to you one day. Now where’s your mother?”

“Kitchen.”

Cartman wanted to slam the door before Clyde’s gaggle of friends could come in too, but he’d rather not be in trouble or lose any more precious trick or treating time. So he held it open for them, not looking them in the eyes either as they awkwardly followed Clyde’s dad in.

“You better not fucking ruin my Halloween, got it?” Cartman spat at Clyde, still refusing to even so much as glance at him.

“Same to you,” Clyde retorted.

Cartman stuck his tongue out when Clyde’s back was to him and slammed the door shut after everyone was in.

“Alright boys, take a seat in the living room. Roger and I need to discuss bed times so you all aren’t out all night,” Liane said.

Once again, Cartman had an issue with this muttering how he was “thirteen and didn’t need a bedtime” despite the fact he couldn’t stay up past ten if he wanted to. Clyde almost said something rude back to he decided it was not the best idea to start fights with Cartman this early in the night. For the past month their parents had been seeing each other and that meant the two boys were forced to hang out. Of course, they hated this and fought it every step of the way. Clyde once hitting Cartman over the head with his toy truck and making him cry, Cartman later punched him in the arm and left a bruise.

With Craig’s gang seated on the floor and Cartman’s having the privilege of sitting on the couch, they decided to ease the obvious tense between Clyde and Cartman by going through their Halloween costumes in order of how they sat. Butters could hardly sit, squirming around in excitement to explain the fact he was a knight _with a sword_. He thought it made his costume immediately cooler because he could stab and fence kids for candy. However, he had the intimidation levels of a small cat and couldn’t fight for shit.

“I went with the classic vampire, ya know,” Kyle smiled, showing the _Party City_ fangs he’d spent his allowance on, “Can’t go wrong with that.”

“Oh boy, me next!” Butters held his hand up like he was waiting to be called on in school, “I’m a knight! I have Stan’s old sword so I can battle kids for their candy!”

His tone suggested he was trying to be evil, but the everything else about him made it feel like the threat came from a puppy.

“You can’t beat up kids on Halloween, we’re trying to get candy not arrested,” Cartman huffed. “Anyway, I don’t believe in going all out, only getting candy. So I cheated the system and have this shit devil costume.”

“ _Charmin Ultra Strong_ Mummy,” Kenny budded in, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

Stan had been staring off, not giving a single shit about Halloween or coming up with a lame excuse to who he was dressed up as. So they skipped passed him, Cartman adding the unwanted input that he was being a “piss baby” for Halloween and refusing to join. Stan had thoughts about telling him off, but sighed and continued to stare off into nothingness.

“Well,” Tweek started with a nervous laugh, tugging at the collar of his shirt, “Craig and I were going to do couples costumes, but that Among Us game came out and we had to compromise so I’m a witch and Craig’s a space cat.”

Craig, normally stoic, glanced off sideways, his face flushed for being called out on his space obsession. He’d force his friends to play the game for countless hours, insisting he’d always get to be dark blue, and his bland, monotone personality made him far too good at being an imposter. So obviously, he had changed his Halloween costume to that of the in-game avatars, completely forgetting he was supposed to be matching with his boyfriend. 

So when Tweek brought their costumes at lunch last week, Craig dropped his spoon into his soup. Confessing his “sins” to Tweek after lunch in the hallway when they were supposed to be in class, explaining he would buy a “cat hat” to sit over his helmet and be a space cat. To him this sounded like the perfect solution and he mentally congratulated himself on his quick thinking skills and “huge brain”. 

Uncomforted by Craig’s out of character embarrassment, the group switched on to questioning the rest of their costumes.

“Token?” Kyle offered him the spotlight to explain his costume.

“Snufkin! Like from _Moomin._ ” he explained, beaming at his own mother’s handiwork in crafting his costume. His odd choice in costume required months of searching to find anything like the 1990s animated series character.

“The hell is that?” Kenny perked up.

“An old show that my mom bought me! He’s the main character!” Token knocked the brim of his hat upwards a bit so he could see.

Clyde took this as a cue that Token was done and he was to announce himself now, a wide smirk spreading across his face, “I’M THE JOKER, BABY!”

The room went silent after it, except for his and Kenny's giggles. Sure, they had all seen the video, but he wasn’t exactly the most hilarious thing, especially when Clyde had that week long phase where he would not stop replaying it to anyone within a five-foot radius of him. So, they immediately moved on from his frankly embarrassing display.

“Jimmy, what the fuck are you? You don’t even look dressed up,” Cartman asked.

“Buh-Bill DenBrough!” Jimmy answered.

“Sounds faggy!” Cartman said almost as soon as the words left Jimmy’s mouth. He was taking out his “teen angst” on anybody he could.

“Act-Actually, he’s from an R ruh-rated movie!” he said in a rather matter-of-fact tone.

“Your mom let you watch an R-rated movie!?” Tweek squeaked, pulling at his hair from stress and probably some form of undiagnosed tics.

“Yes! It was called IT-“

“ _IT?_ _ppssh._ That sounds, like, the gayest thing ever,” Cartman budded back in.

“It’s not really, Cartman,” Token chimed in, “There’s this clown and he eats kids! He lives in the sewers. My mom and dad said I couldn’t watch it until I was 20 or I’d have nightmares forever.”

“That’s ruh-right! But my mom l-l-let me watch because I’m mature now!” Jimmy puffed out his chest.

“E-eats kids...” Cartman echoed, his voice small and nervous, but he cleared his throat before he continued, “It’s not real though, so it’s still faggy.”

“Well, of course, it’s not real, fat-ass, but that doesn’t make it not scary.” Kyle retorted, “I heard that one kid gets his arm bit off and it totally looks real!”

Stan had seen the movie, he watched it with Shelly and his parents. His parents referring to it as a “classic” and a “must-see”, first making their two kids sit through the old one then both of the remastered parts. It wasn’t Stan’s thing, but he would not ruin everyone else’s fun or pride by stating his poor opinion of it. 

“Alright boys,” Liane returned, “We’ve decided it’d be best for you all to only stay out until 9PM this year, Eric gets sleepy if he stays up any later.”

“MOM!” Cartman whined, not wanting her to expose such embarrassing things about him.

She completely ignored him, “Out you all go now! Have fun!”

She shushed them out the door, the boys filing in a line, except for _those two_. Cartman trying to leave the same time as Clyde and shoving him into the door frame, Clyde hitting Cartman weakly in the head to get him to move. He hadn’t even done shit to provoke Cartman this time! What the fuck was his problem?

Clyde squeezed past, brushing himself off and readjusting his suit before glaring at Cartman. Cartman stuck out his tongue again and fixed his devil horns. His costume fit far too well for Clyde’s liking. He truly was the devil.

“You’re already ruining my Halloween,” Clyde muttered.

“ _Your Halloween?_ You’re the one that had to fucking ruin my plans—” Cartman started before Kyle hit him in the back of the head.

“Take it somewhere else, the rest of us wanna get candy.”

“You’re acting like we all wanted to hang out,” Craig added, “None of us wanna do this, we’re just tolerating each other.”

Clyde mumbled something under his breath and Cartman almost considered hitting him over the head with his Halloween bucket, but he got glared at by Kyle before he could do anything. So he shoved his hands into his pocket and sulked, trailing behind the group as they started down the sidewalk. Clyde staying towards the front to be as far away from Cartman as possible. Finding himself walking in rhythm with the piss baby that was Stan Marsh, Cartman decided to interrogate him a little on his unusual amount of “lameness'“.

“Why are you sucking major ass today? It’s fucking Halloween!” Cartman shrugged himself into Stan trying to get him to loosen up.

“I could say the same to you,” Stan replied and leaned away. “You won’t stop fighting Clyde and glaring holes into the back of my head.”

“Okay, look, me and Clyde are totally unrelated to free candy. I have my own issues with him that are beyond Halloween.”

“Sure, Cartman. Whatever you say.”

It went silent after that, Cartman uncomfortable with Stan's attitude. Stan just kicking pebbles and taking in the surrounding houses. The streets were a bit dull compared to other years, sure there were kids still about, but it seemed less than previous years. Perhaps lazy parents or more kids attending parties instead of trick or treating, Stan thought to himself.

Cartman eventually moved forward, running to a house with the other kids to receive candy, but Stan lurked behind. He felt like an awkward parent, standing at the ends of peoples walkways to their front porches. If he had to do this when he was older he decided against becoming a father. Waiting for the rest, he studied the house, a solid baby blue colour with an abundance of fake cobwebs and oversized spiders, a fog machine sitting in the upstairs window still and spilling smoke all across the yard. It stood out compared to the neighbouring houses whose lights were off.

Perhaps it wasn’t just Stan’s enthusiasm for Halloween dying, but Halloween as a whole. He glanced both ways down the lines of houses, it was almost as if there were equal numbers of lit houses and dark ones. One light down the street flickered off… The night had barely even begun. They’d probably be home before the set ‘bedtime’ Liane made.

Stan sighed as the group rejoined him. Clyde beaming about how he got his favourite candy and Cartman once again sulking to the back of the group, he’d gotten Skittles, his least favourite. For a moment he considered giving them to Stan, but that would be too nice and Stan might take that as an excuse to be a loser even more. Maybe if he flexed the candy he was getting to Stan, he would have to give in and start trick or treating.

Immediately his plans were ruined.

“Stan! Catch!” Kyle turned around, throwing Stan a Milky Way.

He caught it and nodded as a thanks.

_God, Kyle had to ruin everything!_ Cartman jogged forward to give Kyle a piece of his mind.

Stan could hear him tell Kyle it was “encouraging him to be super lame”. Why did he care so much Stan wasn’t trick or treating…? Stan shook his head. He did not want to start psychoanalysing Cartman’s actions. He was insane as is, and Stan would rather not know what went on in his head.

Unwrapping the candy, Stan popped it into his mouth. It was far sweeter than Stan remembered. Or was Stan just not used to sweets anymore? He didn’t know, but shoved the thought aside along with the wrapper in his pocket.

Cartman, up ahead, was chewing Kyle’s ear out.

“Dude, now he’s gonna be all piss baby for the rest of the night! You’re encouraging him!”

“Shut up, Cartman. It’s just candy.”

“Yea, but—”

“I’m choosing to ignore you now,” Kyle cut him off before he could start an argument.

Cartman sighed, he should’ve just gone himself. Everyone else only knew how to get on his nerves. He swore he would’ve had it all planned out if it wasn’t for everyone fighting himself every step of the way, and he could’ve created the best Halloween.

They arrived in front of another house and Cartman sprinted in front to ring the doorbell, Clyde on his heels. The two elbowing each other to have the front spot at the door and say trick or treat to whoever owned the house. The rest of the boys rolled their eyes behind the pair. If they could put aside sibling rivalry for two seconds, they’d probably have fun, but they were so far up their own respective asses.

“Trick or treat!” they yelled in sync.

Cartman stomped on Clyde’s foot in retaliation for interrupting him and Clyde jabbed him in the ribcage. Both struggled to keep smiles as they held their bags open for candy. The poor old woman at the door rose her eyebrows in confusion before dropping candy into their respective bags. Immediately both boys ran off the porch and towards the next house, desperate to beat each other in their imaginary competition.

“You all wanna go across the street so we don’t have to be associated with them?” Craig suggested, jabbing his thumb to the houses on the other side.

The boys took glances at each other before all nodding, leaving the other two to their own chaos.

“Clyde, you fucking bitch! Lay off, I’m ringing the doorbell,” Cartman whined.

“I touched the porch first! I’m ringing it!” Clyde slapped the doorbell full force before Cartman could even get a chance. It felt good to be on the petty side for once.

God, this fucking sucked! Cartman couldn’t win against this kid. He clenched his jaw as the home owner dropped candy into their bags. Bolting off to the next house before the door even closed, leaving Clyde grasping for his hoodie to slow him down. It continued like this for a while, each boy fighting over every little thing as they always did. Who touched the door first, who got the better piece of candy, who would ring the doorbell. They hadn’t even noticed everyone else’s absences, so absorbed in their own little world.

It wasn’t until they both sat on the curb of the sidewalk, panting from running nonstop, that they realised they were the only two. Cartman’s chest heaving as he looked around, he didn’t think Clyde realised it yet. He was NOT going to expose the sudden rush of worry that washed over him. He didn’t bring his phone so he couldn’t tell the time, but the sky was worryingly dark and the surrounding houses had shut off their porch lights… However; he swore they didn’t trick or treat for that long, so it definitely wasn’t late… right?

Oohhh, at what point did they lose the others…? Cartman nervously fiddled with his fingers. Normally, he wouldn’t give a fuck, he’d just show up home whenever. It’s not like his mom gave a fuck what he did. But the new issue was Clyde’s dad… Ever since he came around, Cartman started experiencing consequences for his actions. If he showed up home with just Clyde and not the others, both of them would be in deep, deep shit.

“You’re ruining all my fucking Halloween plans!” Cartman blurted.

“What?” Clyde whipped his head to face Cartman. “ _I’m_ ruining _your_ plans?”

“Yes, Clyde! Yes, you are! Look at us! Do you see anything wrong?” Cartman paused for a second, even though the question was rhetorical. “We’ve lost the others!”

“How’s that my fault?! You’re the one that’s been arguing with me all night!” Clyde jabbed an accusing finger in Cartman’s chest, standing up to tower over him.

“Maybe if it wasn’t for your fucking piece of shit dad trying to insert himself in my fucking family, I wouldn’t be starting shit!” Cartman stood up as well, clutching his bag of candy close as if Clyde had intentions to steal it.

“So now you’re bringing my dad into it?” Clyde spat. “Do you think I want to be related to you, Cartman? Do you honestly think I ever wanna call you _my_ brother? Your mom’s a fucking whore, Cartman. I don’t want her near my dad, she’s just going to break his heart, and he’s already been through enough shit!”

“Don’t call my mom a whore!”

Ditching his shitty dollar store get up, Cartman tackled Clyde, both boys rolling back onto someone’s lawn. Clyde tried shoving him off, but Cartman had grabbed both his hands, trying to force him away from Clyde’s face with the intent to punch him. And then Cartman swung. He had never truly hit someone. Sure, petty fights with Kyle here and there, but there was never any genuine anger behind them.

He actually surprised himself. Clyde just as shocked he actually hit him. In that small moment of standstill, Clyde pushed Cartman off, scrambling to stand up again as Cartman tumbled back. Tears welled in Clyde’s eye as he held his cheek, it wasn’t the most hard hitting punch, but the shock that Cartman had the balls to do it amplified the pain.

“What the fuck, man,” Clyde tried to keep his voice steady, but his voice cracked a bit and tears threatened to spill over.

“I-I… I didn’t mean it,” Cartman stammered, stepping closer.

That was his first mistake. His second mistake was his reflexes being too slow to do anything about Clyde hitting him back. His fist hit awkwardly, not exactly his eye, but close enough that Cartman knew he’d have some type of black eye forming tomorrow. He hissed to himself, holding his hand to his eye, cold from the autumn hair. Cartman would’ve continued fighting there, but part of him knew he deserved that and the other part of him didn’t wanna get punched again.

“Now we’re even unless you wanna hit me again,” Clyde huffed, still bitter.

Cartman shook his head, readjusting the horns that had been askewed, before just sitting there in the grass and holding his eye. Clyde tensed for a moment before slowly sitting down, too. The two sat in silence, neither sure what to do. So much petty tension between the two released in such a short moment when both realised they were total cry babies.

An apology was on the tip of Cartman’s tongue and he _never_ apologised. But he held it in for a bit, taking a deep breath and trying to figure out something to say in his head. On the other hand, Clyde turned his body away slightly so he didn’t have to look at Cartman, pouting to himself as he held his pumpkin shaped candy pail in his lap.

“Um…” Cartman started, Clyde tensing up upon hearing him. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to actually hit you…”

He awkwardly fiddled with his fingers again, not looking up to see Clyde.

“Well, I meant to hit you,” he replied snarky, before continuing in a softer tone, “But I’m sorry too, I guess.”

“It’s not really you I have a problem with Clyde,” Cartman continued, swirling patterns in the grass with his finger now. “It’s just kinda weird… having your dad around… Life’s just different, you know?”

“Yea,” Clyde nodded, feeling awkward and unsure if he should open up himself. “I didn’t mean to call your mom a whore… I just worry about my dad since, you know, my mom, uh…”

Cartman nodded, not wanted to force Clyde to say the words out loud.

They sat in the cold autumn air a moment longer, wind swirling leaves around them. There was peace for the first time that night. Months of tension between the two finally lifted, both being able to say their pieces and getting out a few bottled feelings. The silence lingered a moment before Cartman stood up, offering a hand to Clyde,

“We should probably go look for the others now, huh?” he tried to laugh a bit, finding the situation they had just been in to be incredibly awkward now. Clyde nodded before taking his hand and housting himself up.

The others, on the other hand, were having a far better time, hitting up houses and giggling about jokes and stories. Even the downtown was doing a little trick or treat event, stores handing out candy while simultaneously adversting themselves to children who clearly didn’t give a fuck.

Well, just about everyone was having a good time. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Stan, the poor kid loitering around outside various building and declining candy as he trailed behind his friends. God, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Stan,” Kyle dropped off from the rest of the group, slowing his pace to match his friend’s. “Dude, you’re kinda bummed, what’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” Stan sighed, kicking at a stray pebble on the sidewalk, “Just not really into this whole ‘Halloween’ thing anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?” Kyle pestered.

Stan stopped in his tracks, hands shoved into his pockets trying to seem reflex despite the tension in his shoulders. God, what should he say? “ _Yes, I’ve actually wanted to trick or treat all night, but I keep reminding myself of my dad_.” Jesus fucking Christ, he sounded weak. Or he could just make excuses.

“Look, even if I ‘wanted’ to go, I don’t have time to buy a costume—”

“You don’t have to buy a costume, we can make you one right here,” Kyle said.

“How? We’re literally halfway through the neighbour and stores are definitely sold out.” Stan mumbled, staring at the ground and kicking at stray pebbles.

Kyle grabbed Stan’s arm tugging him to the edge of the sidewalk, out of people’s way, “I have the perfect costume right here, just hold still.”

It confused Stan as he watched Kyle rub at his eyelids, collecting the abundance of black eye shadow Shelly smeared across them earlier. 

“Wait, you’re ruining—“

“I’m not ruining anything, Stan, don’t worry about it.” Kyle interrupted, silencing him before the cynical kid had the option to complain.

Kyle continued to rub away the eye shadow a moment longer before taking his finger and smearing it over Stan’s eyelids, who reflexively closed them. He didn’t have the gentle touch or make up brushes Shelly did so it wasn’t exactly the feather like touches most people got when doing their makeup. But did Stan didn’t complain, his chest warmed by the fact Kyle actually cared enough to do this for him. Delicate finger tips (or ones that tried to be) smudging around to form the utmost shitty replica of what Shelly had done for Kyle.

Opening his eyes after he felt Kyle pull his hand away, Stan held back giggles as now his friend looked like a raccoon. The perfectly blended edges now a mess and streaked up into Kyle’s furrowed eyebrows, hyper focused on getting more eye shadow. Stan couldn’t help it, snorted back a giggle at the ridiculous statement of a look. 

“What?” Kyle asked at first, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that he was royally fucking up his makeup. “Oh? Do I just look stupid now?”

“A little,” Stan snickered, “but we’ll look stupid together.”

He received a smile from that, Kyle giving in with a slight chuckle before smearing the last bit across Stan’s other eye, holding his face with his hands and accidentally getting makeup on Stan’s cheek. Giving his finger a quick lick, Kyle rubbed away the mistake, now proudly admiring his “work”.

“You’re _The_ My Chemical Romance.” he announced.

“Kyle—“ Stan cut himself off, letting out a slight giggle, “MCR is a band with multiple members.”

“Do you think old people know that? Now come on let’s catch up with the others, I’ll split my candy with you.”

Kyle turned to regroup, Stan lingering behind a moment. His heart felt full. Taking in the mental image of his _friends_ enjoying Halloween and even if he was a little late to the party, he wanted to have this experience too. Crisp autumn air and the heavy scent that could only be described as Halloween filled his lungs as he took a deep breath, not a sigh but a mental reset. In his final year of middle school, he was now determined to make this Halloween the very best. After all, he heard high schoolers started going to parties.

He jogged up to the others group, finally really taking in his surroundings that night. Hearing Cartman make some joke with Clyde, who burst into a childish laughing fit. They must’ve found their way back finally, and it seemed the two were finally getting along. Craig fussing over Tweek, telling him that he should be careful on how much candy he ate. Jimmy explaining to curious, wide-eyed Butters the plot of IT, hyping up his character to make his costume seem cooler. Token and Kenny, who had formed an unlikely friendship, giggling about something Stan couldn’t quite make out. And then there was Kyle, his best friend, scratch that, his _super_ best friend, waiting for him with a fistful of Milky Way’s. 

Yea, he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> might fuck around and come to to extend the end when i feel up to it who knows
> 
> [twitter](%E2%80%9Ctwitter.com/nvrllyrlly%E2%80%9D)


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